


The Guardian

by Trensu



Series: Dollhouse 'verse [2]
Category: Dollhouse, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trensu/pseuds/Trensu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel didn't think about it. It was simply another fact about her: Latina, stripper, student, murderer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Angel Salvadore first heard of the Dollhouse, it was through one of her employers. Her first thought about it was ‘thank god it doesn’t exist or I’d be out of a job.’ Angel was a stripper, and a popular one to boot. She was never ashamed of her profession, and answered honestly whenever anyone asked what she did for a living. It was something she chose to do because paid well and provided flexible work hours so that she could still attend college classes. 

Why the hell would she waste her time cashiering at minimum wage and adjust her class schedule to suit the needs of the job? Then again, perhaps she lucked out with her employers. It’s quite possible other managers weren’t quite as lenient as her own. Whatever the reason, she liked her job but it wasn’t something she wanted to do for the rest of her youthful years. She was studying for a reason, even if she was yet undeclared in her major. She thought she could be a physical therapist someday or a dance instructor. She knew she wanted to work with the human body. She was fascinated by how it moved. She could trace this fascination to high school when she was on the soccer team and took hand-to-hand combat classes provided through the school for underprivileged students in ‘high-risk environments.’ Okay, so they were simple self-defense classes but Angel had shown enough interest and talent that the instructor had given Angel several more advanced lessons during her own time outside of the school-mandated lessons. 

Angel had her life under control. She was employed in an establishment that paid well. She was finishing her time at the community college with a killer GPA, well into the process of transferring to a four-year university. The fact that she was a couple years older (behind) than most students did not deter her. Life was going according to plan. 

She hadn’t planned to kill a man, however. That was…unexpected. When Angel thought about it for too long, she’d feel a sickening twist of guilt in her gut, but for the most part, Angel didn’t think about it. It was simply another fact about her: Latina, stripper, student, murderer.

~*~*~

“I have connections that would allow me to…erase that particular fact from your record,” Ms. Emma Frost said when Angel was in police custody. She was dressed in all white, which Angel thought was pretentious enough without her self-assured tone to add to it. Blonde coiffed hair, prettily made up eyes, expensive accessories, her regal air…Angel was certain this woman had never had to worry that there’d be food on the table when she came home, had never had to watch her mother forcibly swallow her pride to accept federal aid and hate herself for it. Angel sneered.

“Lady, whatever you’re selling, I ain’t buyin’.” What Frost was implying did not sound remotely legal. Angel did not need that sort of help, even if she _had_ killed someone.

“Ms. Salvadore, you haven’t even heard my offer yet,” Frost said lightly.

“You want to talk? Talk. I’m just saying that the chances of you changing my mind are pretty damn slim,” Angel shrugged, slouching lazily in her chair. 

Emma proceeded to re-tell a popular urban myth. It was mostly information Angel already knew, except for the new fact that the Dollhouse actually _existed_.

“You want me to sign away five years of my life? Forget it,” Angel hissed. Emma’s daintily plucked eyebrows rose in surprise.

“You are about to get a thirty to life prison sentence,” she said as if Angel weren’t perfectly aware of it. “I’m offering you freedom after five years at an establishment that will care for your every need. We would keep you safe and healthy. You would have no memory of any engagements afterwards, and you may return to your life outside with a clear record.”

“Say that’s all true,” Angel stated as calmly as she could. “Say you do all that. And you know what? Yeah, I can see how that’s a pretty sweet deal for most people, but you’re asking me to give up my body for five years. Five years where I won’t know what happened to me. I won’t even be residing in my body at all, from the sound of it. At least in prison, I’ll be fully aware of what’s going on around me. So, no thanks.”

Angel remained stoic, determined, under Emma’s curiously analytical gaze. Finally, Emma gave her a curt nod.

“Very well,” She stood to leave and made her way to the door. As Angel straightened prepared to be escorted back to her cell, Emma turned to look at her once more. “It was truly a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Salvadore.” The door clicking shut behind Frost sounded oddly ominous.

Angel assumed that would be the last time she’d ever have to talk about anything related to a dollhouse of any kind.

~*~*~

To say she was surprised to see Emma Frost again the night before her sentencing would be an understatement. Frost was dressed in all white again, sitting all prim and proper in front of her. Angel scowled.

“Didn’t I tell you to fuck off already?” Angel sneered, frustrated and stir-crazy. 

“I looked into the details of your arrest,” Emma replied, blithely ignoring Angel’s comment. “In particular, I read your statement.”

“Hey, I already told you I wasn’t interested, so you’re wasting your time and mine. I was hoping to get some beauty sleep before my big day,” Angel said sardonically. Emma reached over and placed her hands over Angel’s clenched fists. It startled Angel into stillness. People like Emma didn't normally deign people like Angel worthy of any sort of affectionate gestures.

“I know why you did what you did.”

“What’s your point?” Angel snapped, defensively pulling her hands out of Emma’s grasp. Emma gracefully pulled away as well.

“There are other openings at the Dollhouse that wouldn’t require you to be a Doll,” Emma said in a brisk, business-like tone, leaning forward slightly. “I think, with your skills and background, you’d be quite good at one particular job.”

“…what job’s that?”

“Angel, how would you like to be a handler?”

~*~*~

After meeting Havok, Angel barged into Emma’s office, ablaze with feelings she couldn’t fully express. Anger, guilt, despair, gratitude, indignation…it was all a mess and it pissed her off.

“Him?” she had all but yelled. “You’re giving me him?”

“I thought it was fitting,” Emma said with a calm smile. “Unless you don’t think you can watch him…?”

Angel heard a startled laugh, caught somewhere between hysteria and relief. It was her own. “You’re kind of a bitch, you know that?”

“So I’m told. Go to Hank so he can program the call-response. I need you to be able to do your job.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Angel saluted mockingly, hoping Emma didn’t catch the gratitude that was trying to edge into her words. 

With hurried steps and hesitant mind, Angel made her way to Dr. McCoy’s workplace, the room with the glowing chair. Havok was already seated in it, wearing the same dazed expression Angel’s become accustomed to seeing on Dolls. Angel steeled her mind and crossed the threshold, getting Hank’s attention. Hank was a gangly man, full of nervous energy, who didn’t seem comfortable in his own skin much less around other people. He very nearly yelped when he finally saw Angel.

“Oh, uh…Angel?” he sounded confused, for reasons that eluded Angel.

“Yeah. I’m Havok’s handler,” Angel confirmed. Hank murmured a shocked ‘right’ and took off his glasses to wipe them furiously, shoulders hunched, deliberately not meeting Angel’s gaze. She scowled. “Is there a problem?” 

Hank jumped, shakily replacing his glasses. “Er, no. Just surprised. People like you are usually Dolls.”

Angel didn’t note any malice behind his words, even if they had a tint of condescension. She heard the guy was a genius. He probably thought everyone was beneath him, not because he thought he was superior, but because it was a proven fact that most minds couldn’t keep up with his. It was, Angel admitted to herself, a refreshing change to the air of hateful superiority she’d encountered in others throughout her life.

“Hank, unless you want me to hurt you, I suggest you shut the fuck up and do what you’re supposed to do so I can get on with my life.” Still, Angel wasn’t going to take any form of condescension if she could help it.

“Right, yes. I need you to go stand near Havok,” Hank told her as he fiddled with his computers, tapping keys, and moving gracefully around his equipment. Angel later noticed that these moments were only times Hank was ever truly at ease in his own body.

“Keep in his line of sight, otherwise this won’t work. And touch his shoulder or something like that. That isn’t as necessary as visual contact, but physical touch boosts the connection so it’s recommended,” Hank explained offhandedly. Angel took Havok’s lax hand, feeling his rough fingers curve easily around her palm.

“Okay, as soon as this starts, you have to recite that script you got before,” Hank continued.

Angel felt Havok’s hand tighten around hers, and gripped a little more firmly in response. When she looked at him, his eyes were trained studiously on her brown eyes, wide open and innocent. She caught Hank’s signal out of the corner of her eye. Her throat felt tight, but her eyes never strayed.

“Everything is going to be alright,” she promised.

~*~*~

For the most part, it really was alright. Angel took Havok to and from various kinds of engagements. He was very popular, something that made Angel proud though his popularity had nothing to do with her. Havok had been everything from a body guard for a pop princess, to an advanced calculus tutor for some rich guy’s genius daughter. And that’s not even counting his romantic engagements.

People _loved_ having Havok for romantic engagements. Some of them were odd - like the one client with the furry fetish - but Angel didn’t judge; it was all cool so long as Havok was returned safely and on time.

But then there was Stryker.

It wasn’t as though Havok has never been hired by a sadistic Dom before. The whole BDSM gig was actually quite a popular pick, if what Angel overheard from Hank and Emma’s conversations were true. However, Angel had gotten a glimpse of the client. She had seen the way he watched the Dolls (smug, greedy eyes when most would be unnerved for at least a moment, though usually longer). She had heard him give Emma his specifications for a masochistic sub imprint. Everything about the man set off alarms in Angel’s mind. Angel learned how to pick out the bad clients from the good clients from her days at the strip club, and she had never been wrong before.

Too bad she couldn’t say anything without giving up the fact that Angel had eavesdropped on a client’s confidential meeting with Emma. Angel couldn’t risk losing her job. She couldn’t risk losing Havok to another handler. She had to wait until Stryker screwed up, until he broke parameters. _And he will,_ Angel thought grimly, _it’s just a matter of when._

~*~*~

Stryker didn’t slip up until his third engagement with Havok. Havok’s neural topography spiked momentarily, enough to be out of the ordinary but not enough to warrant an emergency extraction. As soon as the engagement ended, Angel all but ran into Stryker’s hotel room. The smug bastard had the gall to grin at her as she took Havok away.

“What part of ‘no lasting damage’ did the bastard not get?” Angel hissed once she and Havok were in the van. She gave Havok a cursory inspection.

“Take it easy. It was all in good fun,” Havok grinned cheekily, sprawling in his seat with a wince. Angel ignored his attitude. Havok’s current imprint, Kevin, was a bit of a hedonist.

“I’m taking you to see someone before your treatment. He’s a doctor and it’s in the same place where you normally go for treatments, so you don’t have to worry,” Angel continued. 

“I never worry,” Havok shrugged gingerly. “You keep me safe.”

And the way he said it…

It was enough, sometimes, to make Angel wonder if the imprints really stuck or if the wipes actually erased the mind like they should. It was times like these where Havok seemed to leak out from an imprint that made Angel think. How much of him is Havok? How much of this is the imprint?

How much of Havok is the man he was before the Dollhouse?

Angel stood by as Darwin checked Havok and did her best to ignore how the imprint prompted him to flirt outrageously with Darwin. Though, she noted, Darwin guiltily enjoyed the attention.

~*~*~

The second time Stryker screwed up, he only got slapped with a fine. Angel was furious. _Accident my ass,_ she thought when Emma explained her reasoning. Angel still didn’t have anything on Stryker that wouldn’t threaten her place as Havok’s handler. It was frustrating. She let it out on Darwin, who was as pacific as ever as long as Havok was not around.

“What, you don’t like Havok?” Angel finally asked after the fourth time Darwin flinched away from Havok’s approaching figure. 

“It’s not that,” Darwin shook his head.

“He’s harmless, you know. So what if he likes hanging around here?” Angel gestured to the medical room and the area around it. “You fix him up here. Obviously, he’s made the association. Dolls are oblivious, not stupid.”

Darwin sighed, “I suppose so.”

Angel didn’t point out that Havok seemed to like _Darwin_ , not the medical room. Dolls were not supposed to make those sort of attachments. She knew that Havok visibly brightened whenever Darwin was around; she wasn't _blind_. Granted, Havok never really spoke to Darwin but he watched Darwin far more intently than he did anything else, and he always had a smile waiting for the good doctor whenever Darwin took the time to notice him.

Angel kept those observations to herself, though, because in anyone else knew…

_(they might ruin him)_

Well, it just wasn’t anyone’s business how Havok spent his time. It was all harmless anyway.

~*~*~

When Emma informed her that Havok was to prepare for another engagement with Stryker, she started doing what she had wanted to do from the moment she first laid eyes on Stryker. Through the computers in the van, she had started searching for information on their client after Havok started his engagement.

First, she hacked into the system to find out their client’s full name. After acquiring that, she started an extensive search on Col. William Stryker, who was happily married and the proud father of a heterochromatic-eyed son.

“Of course he’s military. And married,” Angel snorted, “how fucking typical.”

What she learned next made her stomach drop like a stone. She immediately contacted Emma about it, but it was too late. By the time she had been given the okay to extract Havok, his neural topography had freaked out.

Darwin had to put Havok in a medically induced coma almost immediately after Angel brought him back. Havok was unconscious for weeks.

~*~*~

“I was in prison for awhile, did you know?” Angel said to Havok’s unconscious form. She shifted her chair closer to the bed, taking Havok’s hand in hers. “It wasn’t that big a deal. Well, maybe it was. I killed a man.” She rubbed her thumb across Havok’s knuckles. She took in a shaky breath.

“It’s why I’m here, when I should be serving a thirty-to-life sentence. That’s not right. I was totally set on doing my time,” Angel paused, feeling her throat tighten. She cleared it roughly, focusing her attention on Havok’s limp hand rather than his haggard face. “I…I wasn’t ashamed of what I did. I didn’t…I never wanted to take someone’s life but this man; he deserved it.

“See, I knew this kid. This fucking little _güero _. He started working part time at the strip club I was employed at. This kid was adorable, and crazy smart, too. He taught me how to hack my way through anything remotely connected to a computer. Which is how I was able to find out about Stryker. Too little, too late, though,” Angel laughed bitterly, stopping only when she heard footsteps approaching.__

Darwin came in and checked the readings of all the machinery connected to Havok. He absentmindedly brushed some hair out of Havok’s eyes. He took a seat next to her once he finished doing his dutiful doctor routine. 

“You did everything you could.”

Angel snorted. She replied to his comments, saying much more than she had intended, and felt raw. Strangely, she also felt a bit relieved. The good doctor, fixing everyone’s aches and pains.

“You know, I think I get why Havok likes to stick close to you,” Angel sighed. After awhile, she left Darwin to the relative silence of the medical room in order to meet Emma Frost. She had avoided her boss long enough. It had to have been at least an hour since Hank last told her Emma had wanted to see her.

Besides, she couldn’t continue talking to Havok with Darwin there.

~*~*~

“Hank informs me that someone has been mucking about in our system,” Emma stated once Angel was seated in front of her. Angel’s bored expression didn’t shift, though she made a mental note to remind Hank exactly how many ways she can make him hurt very badly without exerting any effort at all.

“Is that so,” she replied flatly.

“Yes. Then you somehow were able to find very private information about our client, and I don’t recall ever giving you his name,” Emma explained primly. Silence pervaded the room. Angel gritted her teeth, refusing to break it. She could outlast Emma this time around. Minutes stretched between them at an agonizing pace.

Emma sighed. “You are not in trouble, Angel. Your actions, though underhanded, saved the life of our most popular Doll.”

“Then why am I here if I’m not getting fired?” Angel asked, ignoring the hope creeping at the edges of her mind. 

“For taking initiative in the protection of your Doll, and by extension this Dollhouse, I’d like to reward you. I’ve added a fifteen percent increase to your salary.”

“That’s…great,” Angel said hesitantly. She was already getting paid a ridiculous amount of money, and that was really not her main concern. “Does this mean I get to continue being Havok’s handler?”

“Yes. Now more than ever, I’m sure that Havok’s safety can be entrusted to you.”

“…thank you,” Angel near whispered, “for giving me a second chance.”

She wasn’t talking about her job or her prison sentence. She’s sure Emma picked up on that.

~*~*~

Darwin finally left her alone at Havok’s bedside. A small spiteful part of her thought that Darwin had no right to dote on Havok like that after he studiously ignored Havok’s many attempts at friendship. She listened to the whirring of machines around her, and relented some of that spite. Darwin had allowed Havok close, after awhile, and she’d never seen Havok happier than those moments when he aided Darwin.

The steady beeping of the machines keep Havok alive grated on her nerves. She couldn’t stand to listen to them any longer, not when they couldn’t even drown out Havok’s breathing, labored even with the assistance of the oxygen tubes. She took a moment to strengthen her nerves before speaking.

“The kid was one of the first male strippers the club’s manager hired. The manager wanted to get a wider clientele, you know? We only got straight guys as customers before,” Angel explained to Havok, making a point of keeping her gaze on his face. He looked less sallow than before, his eyes less bruised. She wished he was awake, but then she wouldn’t be able to have this little confessional. "This little _gringo_ , once he was hired...he pretended to know how the world works, but he was a kid. What the fuck did he know? His ID was fake, I saw it. He looked a lot like you,” Angel tightened her hold on Havok’s hand.

“I taught him how to use the pole. He followed me around like a puppy. It was cute, like having a kid brother. Sweetest person you’d ever meet,” Angel coughed, trying to clear the sudden ache in her throat. She blinked rapidly, ignoring the pricking at the corners of her eyes. “Long story short, he was beaten to death. He…he, uh, didn’t know the rules like the experienced girls did. He couldn’t pick out a bad client from a good one. He didn’t know that if you were going to take a side job like that, you made sure I was around to play guard. None of the girls took on johns without making sure I was available. They knew about my skills and trusted me with their protection.” 

Angel pressed her face against the hand she had cradled in her palms. “So, he picked the wrong guy, he didn’t tell me about the job, and…he was killed. Brutally. For no reason at all. This bright, happy kid was…I found the guy who did it. I had to make sure this man could never do something like that again.”

A choked whimper wrenched from her throat when she felt a tear escape. Suddenly, all the pain and guilt that she ignored - that she froze and packed away in the back of her mind when she found the boy’s body mangled and bloody behind a dumpster like he was _trash_ \- came crashing down on her, making her shoulders quake as she cried quietly into Havok’s limp hand.

~*~*~

Two days later, Havok was healed enough to be brought out of the medically induced coma. A day after that, Emma Frost suggested that Angel talk with Darwin, who apparently had a degree in psychology as well as a medical one. After finally hearing Havok’s voice again, Angel was too relieved to even think to argue with Frost. Three days later, Angel was sitting in a comfortable chair, angled slightly away from Darwin.

“What do you want to talk about?” Darwin asked, voice mellow and smooth. Angel straightened her spine, and spoke with a calm and even voice.

“I got my job because I killed a man. I thought that made me a murderer, but I guess it just makes me a really good handler.”

She didn't think Darwin would be able to reply. She wasn't wrong. The rest of their session went by in silence. 

It was wordlessly agreed that there would be no further sessions of this kind.


	2. Chapter 2

The Dollhouse was understaffed, Frost said; we don’t have enough handlers, she said. Well, Angel had a perfectly adequate solution to that problem: hire more goddamned handlers. Instead, Frost decided to pair Angel up with another Doll. She told Angel to take it as a compliment. She was the only one Frost trusted with the safety of another Doll. Frost also reminded Angel that it was not as though Havok was in any condition to go on engagements. Frost had said it so lightly and with a smug smirk that was made obvious by its complete absence. Angel had to leave the room for a breather before she did something she regretted. After collecting her thoughts, Angel went back and grudgingly agreed to take on another Doll on the condition that it would only be temporary. 

That was how Angel found herself giving Xenos a tour of the Dollhouse. She did it mostly to remind herself that Xenos was just as human as Havok and to begrudge Xenos for something he had no control over would be petty and childish. She was self-aware enough to realize that her antagonism was the result of the infuriating feeling of helplessness she got whenever she watched Darwin work on Havok’s injuries. It would not be fair to take her frustrations out on a defenseless Doll. It helped that Xenos was easy to like. All Dolls were attractive in their own right but Angel knew that Xenos would be ousting Havok from the number one spot as the most requested Doll even if Havok hadn’t been out of commission. _It’s the combination of wide blue eyes and curvy red lips,_ Angel thought. _Makes him look sweet and sultry at the same time._ She knew girls from back in the club that would kill to have Xenos’ lips. 

Breaking out of her musings, she turned to explain the sleep pods to Xenos only to discover that Xenos had stopped following her somewhere along the way. With a tired sigh, Angel retraced her steps in hopes of finding her wandering Doll. She took her time, tired as she was from worry. It was not as though Xenos was in any danger. The Dollhouse was the safest, most secure place Angel had ever encountered. It was in the outside world where Dolls got their injuries. 

Despite her leisurely pace, Angel found Xenos in a matter of minutes. He was crouched at the edge of the Dollhouse’s indoor pool. His legs were pulled up to his chest, chin resting on the tops of his knees as his toes curled precariously over the ledge. Angel paused. He looked very…sweet, with his curious gaze fixed determinedly on the person doing laps in the pool. She could see why Darwin sometimes compared Dolls to children. She briefly admired the way the light of the pool reflected off of Xenos’ pale skin before turning her attention to the swimmer. 

_Magnus,_ Angel realized. Magnus had been acquired shortly after Angel had been assigned to Havok. He was also very attractive, she supposed, but his lean figure always made her want to check his eating habits. It made her wonder how anyone could touch him without getting a serious paper cut from all his sharp angles. Magnus finished his last lap, ending up at the spot where Xenos was perched. He didn’t notice Angel’s Doll until after he’d shaken the water from his face and slicked back his hair. Angel watched, amused, as they both froze in surprise. A silence stretched between them. 

“Hello,” Magnus finally said, bemused.

“Hello!” Xenos replied, light and cheerful. “You are a very good swimmer!” He continued with far more enthusiasm than Angel normally saw in Dolls. Angel was much more surprised to see Magnus duck his head shyly, choosing to look at the pool water than Xenos’ face. 

“I try to be my best,” Magnus mumbled, barely audible over the gentle lapping of the water.

“You are,” Xenos assured him. “You are your best at swimming.” His balanced tipped precariously in his enthusiasm. He managed to catch himself as Angel made an abortive movement to reach him; not that it would have done much good, considering how she was still loitering at the main entrance of the pool room.

She was vaguely amused by Xenos’ earnestness as well as slightly worried by it. As graceful as Dolls were in their movements, they were also very sedate in their gestures and expressions. It was as though their experiences were muted so they responded in a muted fashion. In fact, Xenos had been behaving in Doll-typical manner during the tour. Angel is not sure why he was acting so strangely. That Magnus was reacting so strongly was quite shocking as well. Unlike the other Dolls, Magnus was almost robotic in demeanor and tone of voice. Now, however, his normally expressionless features were edging towards a small and shy smile while his eyes flickered uncertainly to Xenos.

“Magnus, it’s time for your treatment,” Magnus’ handler called, startling Angel. The handler must have used one of the side entrances to the pool for her to have not heard him coming. While she didn’t notice Shaw’s arrival, she did see that whatever almost-expression Magnus had fled at Shaw’s words. Magnus was once again at neutral state as he climbed up the ladder next to Xenos and pulled himself out of the pool. In a few quick strides, Shaw was at Magnus’ side, pressing a hand on Magnus’ back to guide the Doll away from the pool. Xenos straightened himself up from his crouch, drawing Shaw’s attention.

“A new face! And who might you be?” Shaw asked, sickly sweet. He brought his hand up to Xenos’ face, making Angel tense where she stood and prompting her to take a step forward. At the last minute, Shaw withdrew his hand from where it had wandered close to Xenos’ chin. Xenos’ shoulders were hunched, brow furrowed. His eyes wandered between Shaw and Magnus.

“…I am Xenos,” he replied softly. Angel decided it was time to intervene.

“Shaw, you found him!” she said, striding into the room with a painfully fake smile. She made sure to place herself between Shaw and Xenos. “He wandered off while I was trying to give him a tour.”

Shaw tsked at her with a smarmy smile. “Why would you give him a tour? Perhaps you don’t understand. They’re automatons, Angel. Don’t waste your time by treating them differently.”

Angel grit her teeth. “We have to take care of them, Shaw,” she reminded them. “Otherwise they’re no good for the clients.”

Shaw hummed dismissively in reply. “I suppose that is true,” he said. “In any case, Magnus here has an eager client waiting for him. Ready for your treatment, Magnus?”

“I like my treatments,” Magnus said dully and followed Shaw out of the pool room. Xenos watched them leave, brow still slightly furrowed and his previous cheer missing. 

“C’mon,” Angel said after a moment’s pause. “Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

Xenos stole one last glance at the retreating pair before shuffling after Angel, brow still furrowed.

~*~*~

Ever since the fiasco with Stryker and Havok, Angel had developed an aversion to the large black van handlers had to wait in while their Actives did their engagement. Exiting it was tricky, what with all the delicate equipment between her and the door. It’s possible that Angel has a protective streak a mile wide, but the world had yet to prove her paranoia wrong. It didn’t matter that her Active had all the skills of an expert assassin right now. She was stuck in a stuffy van while Xenos was running about killing people. It was not fair.

Angel kept a watchful eye on Xenos’ neural topography as she brought up video feed on Xenos. His engagement would be ending soon and she needed to see where he was to pick him up for treatment. She had no doubt that Xenos accomplished his goal early. There was a reason why Angel’s Dolls were the top ranked Actives in all the Dollhouse. Angel toggled through a few video feeds, and there he was, wandering down the sidewalk. They were currently in a gated community. _Probably populated by corrupt rich white folk,_ Angel thought vindictively. Why else would they require an assassin? She had no desire to know which house was now occupied by a corpse, so she didn’t bother to see from where Xenos had appeared. Xenos was walking loose and easy, despite the weight of the guitar case strapped to his back that hid away his weapon of choice.

His eyes darted from house to house, taking in his surroundings before being distracted by the sound of mournful screeches. At first, Angel was worried that the screeching was related to Xenos’ engagement, but a quick reevaluation showed that the noise was coming from a group of children. There was a birthday party going on at one of the houses. Angel chuckled at Xenos’ startled reaction.  
The moans of disappointment were children reluctantly bidding farewell to a tall broad-shouldered man who was leading away a bear cub on a chain. Angel watched curiously as Xenos stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the man with the bear. Frowning, she quickly skimmed her notes on Xenos’ current imprint to make sure he didn’t have some sort of phobia or trigger pertaining to large men or furry creatures. He didn’t, which Angel expected. Dr. McCoy was good at his job, after all; but that did not explain why Xenos’ topography spiked. If it wasn’t from fear or distress then…excitement? 

She returned her attention to the scene unfolding on her monitors, tensed to go into emergency retrieval if necessary. The children had been ushered away, so that only Xenos, the man, and the bear cub were left on the sidewalk. It wasn’t until the man crouched down and cooed at the bear that Angel realized she knew him.

“You were such a good girl today, Winnie,” Magnus said, giving the little bear fond kisses on her snout. Angel had no idea how McCoy was able to make such a gentle, soothing imprint fit on a Doll like Magnus. It was astounding. McCoy was really good at his job. 

“I’m so proud of you. You had all those children mad for you, darling,” Magnus continued, not noticing the presence of Angel’s Active. Xenos’ face was lightly flushed now, but his vitals were relatively normal. Angel made a note of Xenos’ increased heart rate. They didn’t seem to be the bad kind of palpitations, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious. 

Angel sort of wished that the feeds allowed for copies because the flustered whimper Xenos made when Magnus finally noticed him was hilarious. Magnus lifted himself from his crouch and offered Xenos a warm smile. 

“Hello,” he said kindly. Even from her viewpoint, Angel could tell that Xenos swallowed nervously.

“You…you have a bear,” Xenos replied awkwardly, the looseness in his limbs from before completely absent. He adjusted the strap of his case timidly, more as a distraction for himself than anything else. Angel snorted. Having mad sniper skills didn’t do wonders for one’s social skills, it seemed. Magnus chuckled good-naturedly, letting the awkwardness dissipate.

“She’s harmless, really. I should know; I’m her trainer.”

“You train animals? That’s groovy!” Xenos said in awe. Magnus barked out a laugh that aggravated Xenos’ blush.

“Groovy? Seriously?” Magnus laughed again, this time at Xenos’ pout. He motioned towards the case on Xenos’ back. “Playing the guitar is pretty groovy, too.”

“Guitar…? Oh! Right, guitar.” Before Xenos could continue, Winnie made her presence known by playfully pawing at Xenos’ leg. Hesitantly, he crouched down to meet her. He dithered a moment before petting Winnie. “Uh. Hi, Winnie. I’m Wesley.”

The little bear growled cutely, nuzzling Xenos’ hand. Magnus leant down to ruffle Winnie’s fur. “That’s bear-speak for hello,” Magnus said charmingly. Xenos grinned.

“Oh, you speak bear?” Xenos asked, much more at ease now that Winnie was acting as a go-between. Magnus nodded gravely.

“It’s why I’m so good at my job.” 

Xenos’ hummed amusedly as Winnie licked his hand making a content sound. Xenos looked back at Magnus.

“What did she say this time?”

“She said you’re a very handsome man,” Magnus said with a tentative smile. Xenos blushed a pretty pink. Angel, in her van, was gaping. The Actives were flirting. Badly, but flirting nonetheless.

“And, and I suppose bears are good judges of that sort of thing?” Xenos squeaked out. Winnie let out a squeak of her own, as if teasing him. Magnus nodded eagerly.

“Very good judges. She says that you’re just her trainer’s type,” Magnus ruffled her fur, eliciting pleased grunt from the little bear. “Winnie thinks you should definitely go out for coffee with me.”

Flustered, Xenos ducked his head to look at Winnie. He bit his lip. “I don’t know, girl. He hasn’t even told me his name yet.”

Angel fumbled with her headphones as the van jolted into motion. Tearing her eyes away from the scene, she glared at the driver through the mirror. The driver shrugged and pointed at the clock. Time was up. In a mere moment, the driver traveled the couple of blocks that separated them from Xenos.

“Harry. Harry Coleburn. There’s a local café that has excellent desserts to go along with their coffee, if you’re interested.” Angel heard Magnus say as the van pulled to a stop. She yanked off the headphones and slid open the van’s door to see both men looking at her, Magnus in curiosity and Xenos somewhat regretfully. Angel almost felt bad for breaking the moment. She stepped out, noticing the way Magnus’ gaze flickered between her and Xenos.

“Gibson, it’s time for your treatment,” she said kindly, but firmly. Magnus frowned.

“Gibson?”

“Surname. Wesley Gibson,” Xenos explained offhandedly. “I have to go for my treatment now, but I’m free afterwards for that coffee…?”

Magnus nodded, pulling out a pen from his pocket. He smiled coyly and grabbed Xenos’ hand, quickly scribbling out a series of numbers. “Give me a call when you’re ready.”

Xenos’ face was flushed all over again. “Y-Yeah, I will.”

Later, on the ride back to the Dollhouse, Xenos lost the dazed expression he’d gotten during his encounter with Magnus. He was practically vibrating with giddy joy. 

“Angel, I have a date! I-I haven’t had a date since…since my last girlfriend cheated on me,” his giddiness dimmed momentarily before brightening again. “He doesn’t seem the type to do that, though. Did you see him with that bear? He was so…sweet.”

Angel laughed. “Whatever, Romeo.”

It was almost heartbreaking to watch him this way. In an hour, he will never have known anyone by the name of Harry or remember a cheating ex-girlfriend.

~*~*~

It had been a slow week. Xenos hadn’t been signed on for more than a handful of engagements and Havok was not yet allowed to take even the easiest of engagements. Mostly, Angel wandered around the Dollhouse. She wanted a mental map of the place down straight. She was also making note of the many security cameras scattered throughout the premises. This was done mostly out of habit after working in shady places with lax security. She had yet to find a blind spot, but she hadn’t finished casing the whole joint. She still had to check out the upper level that held Emma’s office and McCoy’s work rooms, not to mention some of the less used hallways in the lower levels.

It was lunch hour, though, which gave her the opportunity to poke around more closely in the upper level while the boss was out. Quickly, she prowled towards the closed office doors. Silently, she turned the knob and pushed the door only a fraction and froze at the sound of voices in the office. The conversation sounded heated. Before Angel could sneak away, she heard her name. Angel suppressed a flinch.

“You may as well come in, Angel.”

Sometimes, Angel suspected that Emma could read minds. There was no way she could know it was Angel who was lurking by her office. When Angel entered, she saw Darwin standing, tense, in front of Emma’s desk, waving sheets of slightly crinkled paper. Darwin paused briefly to acknowledge her presence, but then continued his conversation as if Angel had never interrupted.

“Emma, look at his paintings,” Darwin said, displaying child-like paintings. “These are the ones he made when he first came to us,” he continued pointing to the ones full of large, brightly colored birds in trees or taking wing. Emma glanced through them briefly.

“And these are the ones from the past few weeks,” he said. The ones he handed over still had birds, but they were smaller and the brilliant colors were replaced with dull grays and browns. There was a new, constant addition to the paintings, as well. A swirling, formless mass of black, slashed with viciously vibrant red. The mass towered over the small birds, crowding them to the edges of each page. Trapped.

“There’s something very wrong,” Darwin stated, his voice cool as steel but his body radiating righteous anger. Emma leaned back in her chair, and watched him placidly.

“Has he been acting differently? Any disruptive behavior?” she asked. Darwin’s jaw clenched.

“…no,” he replied through gritted teeth. 

“Have you noticed any unexplained injuries during his check ups?”

“No.”

“Aside from some finger paintings, is there any reason at all for you to suspect--”

“No,” Darwin cut her off. “These are not just doodles, Frost. This is a cry for help. Ask any child psychologist! Drawing is one of the most used methods to determine a child’s state of mind --”

“These are not children, Dr. Darwin. These are adults,” Emma stated. Her cold stance flickered briefly to reveal a measure of regret. “I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do in this situation. Until we have further evidence, my hands are tied.” 

After a moment, Darwin gave her a terse nod and walked stiffly out of the room. The door slammed closed behind him. Angel raised an eyebrow.

“What was that about? I’ve never seen him so riled.”

Emma sighed. “Nothing for you to worry about. Care to inform me why you were trying to sneak into my office?”

Angel shrugged. “Habit.”

“You normally sneak into offices?”

“I normally like knowing the layout of the places. Tends to come in handy when things go to shit.”

“Pragmatic,” Emma smiled sharply. “I knew I made a good choice when I hired you. Feel free to continue, but, please, try to be more discreet about it.”

Angel scowled as Emma made a ‘go on’ motion with her hands, but surveyed the room with a critical eye. The office had cameras just like any other room Angel had inspected. In itself, that was not so odd but Angel was good at reading body language. The way Emma regarded the cameras was wary. The cameras did not make her feel safe. The question was why, and Angel had no clue as to its answer. 

“Feel better?” Emma said, tone condescending. 

Angel smiled mockingly. “Much.” Then turned on her heel and left. She still had time to check out McCoy’s rooms after all. Angel was so caught up in her task that it wasn't until weeks later that she realized the importance of the meeting she had interrupted.


End file.
